Ever since I was little, I remember hearing my mother change the words to prayers and rituals so they would be more meaningful, inclusive and inspiring. "Father, Son and Holy Spirit" and "for us men and for our salvation" became "Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier" and "for US and for our salvation." She thought of worship as celebration. She felt called to participate fully, and she wasn't going to reduce her expression of a welcoming, loving God to gender or exclude herself from God's love.

She was always making tweaks, and she uttered them loudly. Of course, this was a little odd. It made her seem like she didn't know the real words. It meant sometimes she was out of step with the group.

Today during Mass for the Feast of St. Francis, we remembered the saint who loved all living creatures and wrote poems to the sun and the moon.

And I found myself channeling my Mom, as I contemplated the following words:"Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed."

I've struggled with this response for a while. I've wondered, is it the capital "I" that's the problem? Is it ego, selfishness or separateness that makes us unworthy? For a few years now I've tried to see beyond myself and become a little "i." But the words still always felt clumsy – absent of the love, acceptance and peace of Jesus Christ. Yes, we're human. Yes, we're flawed. But unworthy? Aren't we created in God's image?

I thought about the messages of spiritual teachers old and new, male and female. They call us to engagement, action, and attention, and help us see how we can stretch. For many of us, that means learning to stand in the light.

And so I tweaked the words. I said, "Lord, I AM worthy that you should enter under my roof, so only say the word and my soul shall be healed."

Today the moon is in the sign of Leo, reminding us of our inborn dignity and worth, at odds with what can make us feel disconnected, challenging what can make us feel ashamed.

I hope at some point you can feel the presence of someone who's taught you you're deserving of love. I hope you see that you're part of a beautiful whole. And I hope you can express yourself honestly, even when you're noticeably out of step.

Mars stations direct at 10:04 a.m. EDT after two months in retrograde. This morning the Pisces moon joined Neptune.

Neptune is the part of us that follows inspiration and goes with the flow. Neptune doesn’t make plans: It would rather have a drink or a nap or five minutes in a spacey zone. But Neptune is also the part of us that takes on other people’s stuff. Neptune has no boundaries. It lets in everything, and everything becomes us.

While I was writing this morning, I heard Langston typing loudly in the same room and I lost my train of thought. I snapped at him. He snapped back and went upstairs, and I regretted it. That’s Neptune and Mars showing up in our home. I’m trying to enter a spiritual space, but first let me yell at my husband.

Lang and I apologized to each other, imperfectly, and hours later I'm finishing this piece. Because God has a sense of humor, where I am now is even noisier: Excited chatter fills the hallway; three feet next to me, workers hammer in a new floor.

It's that kind of day, at least for me, but it's important to me to finish. And so I will -- albeit imperfectly, too.